A Slight Change of Plans
by kallalily
Summary: Lily's plans to spend the end of the summer with her best friend are ruined when she finds out that James Potter and Sirius Black will be staying there as well, since Mr. and Mrs. Potter are travelling for work. She goes nonetheless, determined to avoid them and spend time with her friend. What happens when James isn't quite as avoidable as she'd thought?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello! Welcome to _A Slight Change of Plans_. This will be my first full-length fanfiction, so I hope you guys like it :) I know that the whole Lily-and-James-get-thrown-together-during-the-summer thing has been done before, but hopefully I've put my own spin on it. **

**Disclaimer: I am not now, nor have I ever been, J.K. Rowling. Not mine.**

**And now, without further ado, onward to the story!**

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23rd July, 1977

Lily dearest,

I have some bad news… Please don't hate me! I know I promised that you could stay with me until the start of term, but there's been a _slight_ change of plans since we last spoke, and I'm not sure if you'll want to come anymore. In fact, I'm rather close to begging _you_ to let _me_ stay at _your_ house, if it weren't for_ all_ you've told me about your _lovely_ sister (I can just imagine you snorting at my excessive italic-usage right now. Wipe that smirk off your face, young lady! You know it's unbecoming).

Anyway, I've told you how my mum and dad are friends with James Potter's parents, right? I think they're my mum's distant cousins, actually… third or fourth or something once removed, I can never remember. Anyhow, Mr. and Mrs. Potter have to accompany the Minister to France for some diplomatic… meeting… thing. By themselves. So, my parents, who seem to have forgotten that they have a daughter they love and cherish and that they would never want to do anything against her wishes, have offered to take Potter and Black (he moved in with Potter a few years ago, you remember) for the duration of the summer.

I'm sorry! You're still welcome to come, of course; Mum said we could put Potter and Black in Matt's old room since he's staying in London for work the whole summer, and you could stay in the guest room. I know you've never been their biggest fan, though, so I understand if you want to abandon me to suffer alone. Honestly, it hasn't been that bad. They've been keeping to themselves for the most part, and somehow refraining from being too bothersome – I know, I never would have thought it were possible! Plus, after Black showers, he always walks from the bathroom to his room in nothing but a towel around his waist. Now, Lily, I know that he's a bit immature, but even you have to admit that he's fit. And his abs…. oh, Lily, his abs!

So, am I still going to get to see my lovely Lily this summer, or am I going to be deprived of your company until 1st September? Owl me soon!

Yours,

Mary

P.S. If you _do_ still come, feel free to Apparate to our porch. No need to worry about being inconspicuous; we live a few miles away from the nearest Muggles, so no one will see you.

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28th July, 1977

Mary, Mary, to the contrary!

(It doesn't have quite the same ring to it, does it? Oh well, I tried.)

Of course I'll still come! I'd put up with a great number of things if it meant that I could spend time with _you_, my dearest mate. Besides, there's no way that Potter and Black could be worse than Petunia. They're merely a bit annoying, whereas she is _pure, unadulterated evil_. I'm starting to think that she's really the offspring of a giraffe (she looks just like one, minus the adorable spots and look of innocence) and History of Magic homework (the most evil thing I could think of), and that my parents stole her from a zoo. (Do you know of any zoos that breed giraffes and magical assignments? Maybe I could return her. They might even pay me out of gratitude for my selfless (ha!) deed). And yes, I did just use parenthesis inside of parenthesis. Don't you laugh at me, Mary Macdonald! My grammar rules become loose when I'm agitated.

On the topic of grammar, indeed, I did laugh at your italics. There's cause for concern when nearly half of the words in a sentence are emphasized; and you don't believe me when I tell you you're overdramatic?

Back to the subject: at least at your house I'll have a bit of Mary to make up for any nuisances; here, I'm stranded alone with my sister all day long while my parents are at work. Besides, it'll be nice to be around magic again. Even though I'm 17 now, my parents forbid me from doing magic at home. They said they want me to avoid causing "undue conflict with my sister," because anytime I so much as say the "m-word," as she calls it, she throws a hissy fit. I feel so cut off from everything and everyone, and even more than that, from myself. Somewhere in the last six years, I stopped feeling at home in the Muggle world. It'll be worth it simply to be in _my _world again, you know?

If Potter and Black get to be too irritating, I'm sure we can find ways to avoid them, anyway; we've managed for the past six years at Hogwarts! Granted, there are several hundred more people there, which makes the whole avoiding bit easier, but I have full confidence in our abilities.

Unless I hear back from you soon, plan to see me on your doorstep bright and early on the 1st of August. I'll be fully prepared for all of the adventures we'll have, junk food we'll eat, and the Vanishing of any irritating teenage boys who may or may not be staying in your house. Until then… stop gawking at Sirius Black's partially naked body!

Lots of love,

Lily

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**I'm not one of those authors that says I'll only upload a new chapter after I get x number of reviews, because that's annoying, but I will say that reviews are very motivational. I'll update whenever I can, and favorites, alerts, and reviews in particular make me want to update more often. So... if you liked it, or even if you didn't, review? :) **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Here's the first real chapter. Hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: The only thing related to Harry Potter that I own is a rather pathetically large collection of merchandise. These characters, though? Nope. **

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Closets really should be cleaned more often than never.

I sat back on my heels and surveyed the heaping mound in front of me: artefacts that had been salvaged from the hellhole that was intended to house my clothes, but somehow ended up housing everything I'd ever owned. It was starting to look like the pile had devoured my carpet, and I _still _hadn't found my school tie.

Blast.

I twisted around to look at my nearly-packed trunk, where I could just see a thin stick poking out from atop a folded pile of robes. It would be so easy to -

No.

I flipped back around to the gaping hole, filled with things I should have chucked long ago but had instead stashed, out of sight and mind. It wasn't worth it. If my parents caught me using magic, even for something as inconsequential as summoning a stupid tie that I had to find before I could leave for Mary's, they would explode. I'd had too many "minor infractions" at the beginning of the summer, and I didn't want them to be telling me off the last time I would see them before Christmas.

I plunged back into the abyss – and okay, perhaps I'm being a tad dramatic, but I kept the rest of my room immaculate, making it seem much worse in comparison, and it _smelled_ in there – and tossed out a few more random items. An old football trophy, a mangled baby doll, the disgusting, crumbling remains of a macaroni necklace… Why, in the name of Merlin's bloody spangled hat, had I kept this junk?

"Eureka!" I crawled out of the closet, tie in hand, and stood up. My knees popped after what felt like hours of kneeling, though it was still early and I'd only woken up a little while before. I neatly folded the blasted tie – dratted thing must have tried to make a break for it in order to be buried under the mountain of debris – and set it in my trunk. I stuck my wand in the pocket of my shorts, making sure to pull my tank top down far enough to cover it, and then closed the trunk lid with a satisfying thud.

I shoved everything back in my closet – I'd clean it out later (maybe) – and cast a last, cursory glance over my room. I was sure I had everything, and if not, hopefully I'd be able to survive without it until my parents could send it to me. Or I'd just nick whatever it was from Mary.

I lugged my trunk down the stairs, nearly killing myself in the process, and set it by the front door. Standing up, I stretched my back and shoved my hair out of my now-sweaty face. "Lily?" my mum's voice called from the kitchen.

"Coming," I shouted back. I walked in and saw her sitting at the table, newspaper open in front of her. Petunia was standing in front of the stove, tending to a crackling pan of bacon. She didn't glance at me as I entered the room.

"All packed, dear?" Mum asked.

"Yeah. I just brought my trunk down and was about ready to leave."

"Good. And you said you're… getting there _your_ way," she glanced at Petunia, "right?"

"Yes."

Mum nodded. "Why don't you have some breakfast before you go? Is Mary expecting you at a certain time?"

"I said I'd be there by noon."

Mum glanced at the clock next to the doorway. "It's only 9:30!"

"I know, but Mary knows I like to get places early. Plus, I said I'd be there _by_ noon, not _at_ noon. Besides, she said I was welcome to show up whenever."

"Well, it won't hurt you to eat breakfast here, then, though you'll only be two hours early, rather than two and a half." She smirked at me. "Tuney's making bacon, and there's a quiche in the oven. I didn't put any mushrooms in it, either, so don't worry."

My stomach answered for me, choosing that moment to growl loudly. The bacon _did _smell awfully good. I supposed it wouldn't hurt to stay a little longer, especially considering that I wouldn't be seeing my family for ages.

"All right." I moved to sit down across from my mother. She returned to her newspaper. For a few moments, no one spoke and the only sound was the popping of the bacon and the occasional rustling of Mum's paper. I slouched in my chair and fiddled with the salt and pepper shakers. Then, I noticed my mum looking at me over her paper. She glanced pointedly between Petunia and me, and then nodded. I shook my head. Her eyes narrowed.

"Er, so," I said quickly to appease my mum, "Petunia. You're home for the summer holiday, you know. You could be lazy and let Mum do the cooking, if you wanted. I never cook while I'm here." I tried to maintain a teasing lilt to my voice, but the words were tinged with tension.

Petunia whirled around to face me, her incensed face startling. I tried to find something offensive in my words, but couldn't think of anything that might have angered her. "_Some_ of us need the experience because we're _actually_ going to get married and have a _husband_ to cook for. _Some_ people might not understand that concept."

I felt the colour drain from my face. "What are you… the – are you implying that no one would… would marry me?" I sputtered.

"Now Lily," my mother said slowly, eyes darting back and forth between us, "I don't think your sister meant -"

"Yes," Petunia interrupted, still glaring at me.

I stood up, my legs shaking. "That is _it_!" The volume of my voice rose with every syllable. "I've put up with your spitefulness for months – years, really, ever since we found out what I am. But I can't just sit here and idly take it anymore. I won't! So, goodbye Mum, I'm off to Mary's. I know I said bye to Dad last night, but give him another kiss for me. I'll write."

I kissed my mum on the cheek and stormed out of the room, throwing one last frown at Petunia. Mum tried to call me back, but I ignored her.

Petunia's words were replaying in my head, and my anger quickly turned to hurt at the loathing in them. My hands shook. She was my _sister_, for goodness' sake! She wasn't supposed to look at me as if she'd like nothing more than to burn me at the stake. She wasn't supposed to say that no boy would ever want to marry me, as if I were undesirable, unwantable. She was my _sister_.

I pulled my wand out of my pocket and cast a quick spell over my trunk, sending it ahead of me. Then, still hearing Petunia's words in my head, I pictured Mary's front porch. I took a deep breath, then turned on the spot.

And landed right in Sirius Black's lap.

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**Bahaha. **

**This chapter was a lot of set-up, but don't worry: the real fun should begin in the next chapter :) **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks for all the favorites, reviews, alerts, and reviews! (Reviews get extra lovin'). **

**Disclaimer: I really, really, really wish I could say otherwise, but I don't own Harry Potter. **

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Okay, so technically, I didn't actually land _on_ Sirius Black's lap. But I landed, slightly off-balance, directly in front of him and immediately toppled over him, so I may as well have. Either way, I ended up in his lap.

Kill me now.

I was still unsteady and nearly fell onto the floor, but Black wrapped his arm around my waist to stabilize me. I glanced around, attempting to get my bearings. I'd apparently missed Mary's porch and instead Apparated directly into her kitchen. Black and I were sitting (and I never would have believed I would have to say those words…) in a chair at the table, and Potter was standing by the kitchen counter. As I watched, he relaxed, leaning back against it. His eyes were still wide, but his lips were turned up in a grin. There was no sign of Mary or any other _sane_ beings. I couldn't decide whether or not this was a good thing. On one hand, it meant no one had seen my embarrassing display. On the other, it meant I was alone with Potter and Black.

I finally snapped out of my surprised stupor and realised that Black still had his arm around my waist. His hands were hot through my shirt. "If you would like to keep that hand, Black, I would recommend moving it away from my body. Now."

"Easy, Evans." Black was smirking. "I was only trying to help. You might be a little more grateful. If it weren't for me, you would've crashed to the floor and might have hurt your pretty little self."

My eyes narrowed and I squirmed, trying to get him to release me. His grip was surprisingly strong, considering he'd only been "helping" me.

"Black," I said.

"Yes?" (Hand still on my waist.) Okay, so _obviously_ he was only doing this to irritate me. I started to pull my elbow back. If his hand could touch my waist, it was only fair that my elbow could touch his spleen, and maybe some other vital internal organs.

"Sirius." Potter's voice stopped me. I glanced at him again. His amused face was gone, and he was intently looking at Black, and avoiding eye contact with me.

Black let go.

"Thank you," I huffed, straightening my shirt as I stood up.

"No, thank _you_," Black said, winking.

"Ugh. You're disgusting." I rolled my eyes. "And I have to live in a house with you for the next few weeks?" He nodded smugly. "How do you bear it?" I asked Potter.

Potter grinned. "You learn to love him. Sirius is a bit of an… acquired taste." Black made an offended noise, but I spoke before he was able to say anything.

"You've tasted Black a lot then, Potter?" I tilted my head to the side, trying to restrain a laugh.

He arched an eyebrow, but the corner of his mouth was twitching. "Does that make you jealous, Evans?"

I snorted. Black, who had just swallowed some orange juice, started choking. I opened my mouth to say something, but Black cut me off. "Okay, enough. No flirting with each other by implying that James and I are gay together." He crossed his arms and glared at me, then Potter.

"Tch!" Potter said. Always eloquent, that one.

"We are _not_ flirting," I said. Black scoffed. "We're not! There is quite a difference between mocking and flirting. Besides, you can't get mad that we implied something when it's true."

"It is _not _true. I like birds. Quite a bit, actually. I could prove it to you if you'd like." He grinned suggestively, and I felt a sudden urge to vomit.

"Only Sirius Black could go from arguing his sexuality to hitting on a girl in less than a second."

Black tipped an imaginary hat in my direction, and Potter laughed. I rolled my eyes again. I had a feeling I'd be doing that a lot in the coming weeks.

"And on that charming note, I'm going to find Mary. Where is she?"

"Still sleeping upstairs," Potter said. "She told us you'd be coming at noon, and I do believe she implied that you'd use the front door. You're just full of surprises this morning, Evans."

"I said I'd be here _by _noon. There's a distinct difference."

"Of course." Potter nodded. Though his voice was solemn, his eyes were smiling. The git was mocking me!

"I'll just go wake her up, then," I said, crossing the room in a few quick strides.

"I never knew you were the suicidal type, Evans," Potter said. I paused in the doorway, raising an eyebrow.

"She _will _kill you," Black said. "James and I tried to wake her up our first day here to ask where they kept the cereal. We'd looked all over and couldn't find any – turns out they only buy that raisin rubbish anyway, so it was a moot point. Well, the second she opened her eyes, Mary tried to box my ears. At least, I think that's what she was trying to do; she was mostly just flailing about like a lunatic, which made it easy to dodge, at least."

"Yes, but she would probably do the same if you entered her room even when she was awake, simply because it's you. Besides, I have experience with waking her up. We _have_ shared a dormitory for six years, you know."

Black shrugged. "Your neck. Or ears, I suppose."

I started to turn away but, again, Potter's voice stopped me. "Have you had breakfast?"

"What?"

"Breakfast. You know, that meal between dinner and lunch? Experts say it's the most important meal of the day, but personally, I don't believe them. Dinner has dessert, which makes it more important by default," Potter said.

"I know what breakfast is, Potter." I tried to refrain from rolling my eyes _again_. I told you it would happen a lot.

"Then I don't understand your confusion. I asked if you'd eaten it." He ran a hand through his hair, and I tried not to laugh. It _did_ look rather ridiculous now, sticking up in every direction.

"Pretty straightforward question, I think, Evans," Black said, leaning back on the legs of his chair.

"Oh, sod off. And no, I haven't eaten breakfast. Why?"

"You could join us. We were about to… er… cook. Or something," Potter said.

"Plus, it would save you from Mary's wrath," Black added.

"Exactly. It would be nutritious and delicious, not to mention life-saving."

I hesitated. I _was_ still hungry. _Petunia_ – I spat the name in my head, and yes, that is possible – had spoiled my breakfast at home. "All right," I finally said. "I guess it wouldn't hurt."

I walked back to the table and sat down. "So, what's for breakfast?"

"That, my dear, is a very good question," Black said.

"At home, we generally just eat cereal for breakfast. But, as previously mentioned, that doesn't work here. Any chance you know how to cook, Evans?" Potter asked.

"Oh, _now_ I get it. You asked me to join you so I'd make you food, is that right?"

"You know me too well," Potter said, grinning. "But in my defence, I've never learned any cooking spells, and I don't want to burn the house down! My mum warned us specifically not to, and when I tried to turn on the demon stove," he nodded toward a Muggle stove in the corner, "these flames came shooting out of it and -" I started laughing. I couldn't help it; the idea of popular, talented James Potter being worried about a gas stove was too hilarious.

"Fine, I'll cook. You two are obviously incompetent." I laughed again. "What can we make?"

"I dunno, really," Black said. "Mrs. Macdonald said we were welcome to use whatever we wanted, but I don't know how to _assemble_ food. I just eat it."

I stood up again and walked over to the refrigerator. "Hmmm," I said. Bread, eggs, milk, fruit, lunch meat, cheese, tomatoes. The basics. "What about French toast? That's quick and easy."

"As long as I don't have to cook it and it tastes good, it sounds fabulous to me," Black said.

"Oh no," I said. "No way are you getting out of it so easily. I'm going to teach you how to cook. It'll go faster if you're helping me, anyway."

"Evans…" Potter started, but I didn't let him finish.

"Potter, find where they keep the spices. We'll be wanting cinnamon, maybe a bit of nutmeg, and vanilla. Almond extract, too, if they've got it. That's my secret ingredient." I opened a few drawers and started digging for spatulas and other such necessary cooking instruments. "Black, get out a pan that we can cook these on, and then set the table. And I expect you to do it properly, mind. And don't touch the cutlery except on the handles; I don't want to be eating with something that had your grimy paws all over it." Black and Potter burst into laughter. I smiled, but I thought they laughed a little excessively - especially since I'd been serious.

Breakfast was quickly underway, and it didn't take long for me to shoo Potter and Black to the table. There are only so many things to do when cooking French toast, really, and they tended to get in the way more than help. Surprise, surprise.

When I'd finished, I brought a heaping plate of toast over to the table and sat down. The boys' eyes lit up as if they hadn't had sustenance in days (pathetic) and they nearly tackled each other in the race to get food. I noticed that Black had set the knives on the wrong side, but I fixed mine without comment. I supposed it didn't matter, really; when you thought about it, who even decided that a fork had to go on one side and the knife and spoon on the other? Why? Do they have some sort of feud?

"So, Evans, have you been having a nice summer?" Potter asked, interrupting my fascinating speculations about cutlery.

"All right." I shrugged, nearly dropping the bite of toast I'd been about to eat in the process. "You?"

"All right. It's been a bit strange to be staying with the Macdonalds, and especially strange not to see my parents. Summer is the only time I've really been around them since we started Hogwarts, so it's odd to spend a summer without them."

"Though it is rather nice," Black added. "Mary's parents aren't nearly as strict as James's – at least, not with us. Probably only because we're guests, but it's still been a nice change of pace."

"I imagine Potter's parents would _need_ to be strict in order to keep you two in line. You wreak enough havoc on Hogwarts when your time is occupied with classes and homework; I can only imagine all you get up to without such constraints on your time." I pretended to shudder.

"I bet your imaginings can't even compare to the truth," James said, smirking. "So, why has your summer only been all right? Is something wrong?"

"Not… wrong, exactly. It's just always difficult to adjust to life in the Muggle world after a whole year spent at Hogwarts, especially since my parents don't let me do any magic at home. And… well, my sister and I don't exactly… get along."

"Aren't siblings not _supposed_ to get along, though?"

"I know plenty of siblings that get along! Mary and Matt have always been really close, and so have the Donner twins at Hogwarts. Besides, it's not just a normal sibling rivalry. She hates magic, and so me by association." I wasn't sure why I was telling them this, but I supposed it didn't really matter. It wasn't exactly confidential information.

"How can she hate magic?" Potter asked, sounding dumbstruck.

"I don't know. I guess she's kind of like pureblood fanatics, only on the opposite end of the spectrum. She says she thinks magic's unnatural."

"Unnatural?" Black said. "How can it be unnatural? You're born with it, aren't you? It's not like there's some bizarre ceremony you do and then bing, bang, boom, you can do magic. It's a part of who you are."

"I know. She just… she thinks I'm a freak of nature. Plus, I think she's always been a bit jealous, which doesn't exactly help the situation. If I think of it from her point of view, I can kind of understand…. It would be hard to know all about the magic world but not be able to do any of it. But that doesn't make it any easier."

"If it helps at all, I can sympathise," Black said.

"Oh, yeah. I heard that your family was a little, well…"

"Barking? Raving? Mad? Absolutely bloody insane? Yeah, that about sums it up," Black said, laying down his fork.

"Sorry," I said.

"S'all right. I've gotten used to it – if you ever can get used to it – by now, I suppose. They're not my family, anyway. The Potters are, and they're a million times better."

Potter smiled appreciatively at him. We all sat quietly for a few moments, until Black stood up, pushing his chair back loudly. "Thanks for breakfast, Evans. I knew it would be worth it to have you around." He smiled.

"Of course, Black. I came to my best mate's house for the summer just so I could be at your every beck and call. It's always been my deepest aspiration to be a house elf, after all." (Heavy sarcasm.)

"In that case," Potter said, "I have some laundry upstairs that really needs washing, and -"

"No." I stood up and carried my dishes over to the sink.

"Really, though," Black said, "thanks for breakfast."

"Yeah. Thanks, Evans. We'll take care of the dishes, since you basically did all the cooking."

"We'll _what_?" Black asked.

"Oh, come on, Sirius. It won't be that bad. We can use magic, after all."

"Oh. All right. As long as I don't actually have to exert any effort."

"Boys." I shook my head and walked away. "If I don't return from Mary's room," I called "give everyone at Hogwarts my love." I heard Potter and Black laughing from the kitchen as I walked into the hallway and faced the daunting task of lugging my trunk up the staircase. Mary had mentioned that I'd be staying in the room next to hers.

"Wait a moment, Evans," Potter said softly from behind me. I turned around. He was leaning against the wall just outside of the kitchen, while I could still hear Black moving around at the sink. "I wanted to have a quick word." I mimicked his stance, pressing my shoulder into the wall, and raised an eyebrow in question.

"I just wanted to say," he continued, his voice abnormally serious, "that I'm sorry if we ruined your summer. I know you must not be exactly thrilled that we're staying here too, and I wanted you to know that-"

"Don't worry about it, Potter," I interrupted. He started to say something more, but I kept talking. "No, really. If I minded that much, I wouldn't have come. Sure, this isn't exactly how I imagined my visit with my best friend would go, but it's not so bad. Besides, even _I_ have to admit that you're not quite as irritating as you were a year ago. We did just manage to have a semi-serious conversation, didn't we? You're not a _total_ git anymore."

"Gee, thanks, Evans. I think that might be the sweetest thing you've ever said to me. Stop it, I'm blushing." The amused gleam was back in his eye, and his mouth twisted up in a smile. I grinned back.

"Now, enough of that. Will you help me drag my trunk upstairs? I think it weighs a million pounds." I kicked said trunk, which really wasn't the brightest idea. My toe started to throb.

Potter bent down and picked up one end of my trunk, and I grabbed the other. "Holy cow. You weren't kidding, Evans. What, did you hide a body in here or something? There's no way that your school stuff weighs _this_ much."

"Shut it, Potter. I own a lot of books, okay? But now that you mention it, it would be an excellent place to stash a corpse. Now I'll know what to do with you if you regress to your old, obnoxious git-like self."

Black stuck his head out of the kitchen door. "Err, you two _do_ know that you're a witch and a wizard, right? You see, six years ago, they gave us these things called wands that can do magic, and it just so happens that one of the _first _spells they taught us is how to make things float."  
Potter and I looked at each other, then at the trunk, and dropped it unceremoniously.

"Err. Right."

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**A/N: So... what'd ya'll think? **

**Quick question: Do you prefer shorter chapters (which means updates more often) or longer chapters (updates less often)? **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hello, my lovelies! Sorry for the slight delay this week, but school's about to start back up, so life has been crazy. Not really. I'm just a horrible procrastinator. **

**Disclaimer: I own some Redvines and a wand, but not Harry Potter. **

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Once I had levitated my trunk upstairs and my blush had faded – though in my defence, I hadn't been allowed to do or say anything about magic in an entire month! That should entitle me to the occasional lapse in memory regarding my magical abilities, I think. Anyhow, once I was upstairs, I took a look around. Though Mary and I had been friends since first year, we hadn't been particularly close until Snape and I had _stopped_ being friends, and so I had never been to her house before.

I was standing in a long hallway with a carpet that I guessed was once cream-coloured, but was now the faded sort of murky grey that all well-worn carpets are. The walls were the same shade of blue as the sky, and were peppered with pictures of Mary and her family, as well as one photo of a very fat cat sitting next to a dog that looked like its face had been smashed in by a frying pan. Apparently the Macdonald family didn't favour attractive pets….

I abandoned my trunk to explore the hallway. On one end were two open doors. One was a bathroom. The other was the guest bedroom where I was meant to stay – or, at least, that's what I assumed judging from the empty closet and the blandly decorated walls, covered only by a few impersonal pictures of the ocean and one of a flowering meadow. The windows were open, allowing sunlight to pool on the covers of the bed, which was neatly made but had an unhealthy number of throw pillows. Other than that, there was a small, scuffed writing desk in one corner and a cute little dustbin, if something that houses rubbish can be described as "cute". Though the room was neat and comfortable, it made me miss my own bedroom and its purple walls, barely visible beneath pictures of my mates and me and posters for my favourite bands.

I left the room – I'd move my trunk in later – and walked to the opposite end of the hall. This side had two more doors, but both were closed. Here, I would have been at a loss, not wanting to accidentally intrude on Mr. and Mrs. Macdonald's room, were it not for the sign on one door. It was handwritten in Mary's loopy cursive.

_Mary's Domain_

_Enter at your own risk_.

Under the warning, Mary had doodled a baby unicorn. I snorted.

I quietly opened her door and poked my head in. If the sign had left any doubt (which really, it hadn't, seeing as it labelled the room as Mary's), the disaster that met my eyes on the other side of the door eradicated it. I was sure I could've picked the room out as hers from a criminal line-up of girl's bedrooms (if, you know, there ever was such a thing. Which is far from likely.)

Piles of clothes and rubbish were strewn about the room, nearly obscuring a desk and a bedside table from sight. And the carpet? I wasn't even sure there was one. Truthfully, I was impressed. I thought Mary's bedroom couldn't be any messier than her part of our dormitory was, but I'd been wrong. Apparently, Mary actually tried to be _tidy_ at school. Her mess in our dormitory wasn't even comparable to the catastrophe of her bedroom.

And okay, so maybe I'm exaggerating a teeny bit. But really, would it kill the girl to buy a laundry hamper and then actually use it? Or a rubbish bin? I suppose after the whole closet-debacle of the morning, I'm not one to talk about clutter, but really.

I edged into the room, treading carefully around the more suspicious-looking piles (I did _not_ want to step on Mary's dirty knickers), and made my way to the bed, where I could barely see a Mary-shaped lump hidden under the covers. "Mary," I whispered, prodding the lump. "Mare." I prodded her again. She groaned and the lump wriggled a bit, but kept sleeping.

I sighed. I'd hoped to avoid this, but I supposed it would be necessary. After all, I'd learned years back that if you tried to wake Mary up with any… less than gentle methods, such as shaking… she would attack. And I would like to keep my eyes, ears, limbs, and other bodily parts intact, thank you very much.

I flipped the blanket back just enough to reveal Mary's head, her dark hair sticking up funny against the pillow, and hastily retreated a few feet from the bed. Drawing my wand, I murmured "Agaumenti." Water surged out of the end, soaking the pillow, Mary and all.

She bolted upright, sputtering and shoving her now-wet hair out of her face. "What the hell?" she said, looking around with wide eyes. I took a few more steps back.

"Morning, Mary darling. Sleep well?"

"Lily!" She flew off her bed toward me. I didn't have time to flee, but rather than the beating I was expecting, I received a (rather wet) hug. "If I weren't so happy to see you, I would be murdering you right now, just so you know."

"I know. My apologies, but I couldn't wake you up any other way without endangering my physical well-being. I didn't want to stand too close – Black warned me of flailing, and I knew from prior occurrences that his experience was true to form."

"Oh, c'mon Lily. You know I wouldn't _really_ hurt you. At least, I wouldn't do any _permanent_ damage. Sirius, on the other hand… He had it coming to him."

"Sirius, is it? Since when are you on first name basis with him? Actually, he and Potter were referring to you as 'Mary,' though I didn't really notice it at the time. What's going on there?"  
"My dad heard us calling each other by our last names on their first day here, and got really angry over it. Something about how it's impolite and standoffish. He says that since they're the sons of such good family friends, and since they're going to be living here for the next month, we better call each other by our real names. He'll probably force that rule on you, too, so be prepared." Mary pulled me over to her bed as she spoke, and we both sat down.

I sighed. "I suppose it's about time, anyway. We _have _known them for six years. We probably had to learn their first names eventually. At least this coincides with their sudden increase in maturity. If your dad told me to call Potter by his first name a few years ago, I probably would have told him to go snog the Giant Squid. Now that I can actually hold a civil conversation with him, I suppose it won't kill me to call him 'James'."

Mary snorted. "What is it with you and romantic references to the Squid? Didn't you once tell Potter you'd rather date the Squid than him, or something like that, back when he was an immature prat? Do you have some kind of sea creature fetish you're not telling me about, Evans?"

"The Giant Squid is one handsome fellow, Macdonald. I can't help myself." We looked at each other solemnly before deteriorating into laughter.

"But really," Mary said, between giggles, "the mental image of my father snogging the Giant Squid is enough to keep me smiling for a lifetime." She flopped back across her bed, still laughing. "When did you get here, anyway?" she finally calmed herself enough to say.

"Just a little while ago," I said, twisting on the bed so I could look at her. "I chatted with Potter and Black… er, James and Sirius – that's going to take some getting used to… down in the kitchen, sat in Black's lap for a bit, and then they coerced me into making them breakfast."

"Woah, woah, wait. You tell me not to gawk at Sirius Black and then you _sit in his bloody lap_?"

"Long story. Well, not really, I suppose. I just Apparated badly and landed in his lap rather than on your porch." Mary started laughing. "It's not funny! And you're sworn to secrecy on this, Macdonald. Consider it a symbol of my friendship that I'm even telling _you_."

She snorted once more. "Your secret's safe with me. I only wish I'd been there to see it. Wait… before you distracted me with stories of lap-sitting, what were you saying? You made them breakfast? What time is it?" She twisted her head around to look at a clock on her bedside table. "Blimey! It's only a bit after 10. I thought you were coming at noon! What are you doing here so early?"

I rolled my eyes. People simply didn't understand the difference between arriving _at_ a certain time and _by_ a certain time! "I like to be prompt." Mary raised an eyebrow. "And okay, maybe I didn't exactly want to spend a few extra hours at my house. But still."

"Was Petunia still being a horror?"

"Yes," I sighed, lying back beside Mary and speaking to her ceiling. "She wasn't so bad at first, but then she brought her cow of a fiancé over a couple weeks ago. She'd already told him what I am, and he kept looking at me like… like I had leprosy or something. Besides that, he's horribly dull and rude and all sorts of unpleasant adjectives I don't want to be bothered to come up with right now. I talked to her about him later, and might have said something about how he wasn't good enough for her and… well, she didn't take too kindly to that. She spent the last few weeks glaring daggers at me whenever I entered a room, and she started slipping in snide comments about how I don't have a boyfriend."

"She didn't!"

"Yes. Actually, that's how we left things this morning. She said something about how no one would ever want to marry me, and I sort of exploded. Left the house in a huff." I sighed.

"Lily."

"It's all right - really. Not exactly how I would have chosen to leave things with my sister, I guess, but it's been headed that way for a while."

"Lily."

"I'm fine! _Really_." She turned her head to look at me. "Don't look at me like that, Mary Macdonald. I don't want your pity; I was just answering your question. Plus, I needed a good rant. It felt good to get that out of my system."

"All right. If you're sure you're okay. I have tissues here somewhere, if you need to cry about it."

"Do you not know me at all? When would I ever cry over _Petunia_?"

"This is true. But still."

I laughed. "No, I don't need tissues. Thank you, though."

"What are best mates for?"

"Acting as stand-in therapists, apparently."

"But of course."

"So, now that you're awake and I still have all of my limbs, what are we going to do today?"

"Well, you can unpack while I shower and get dressed, then I'll give you a quick tour of the house – which will be supremely fascinating, I'm sure, but my mum told me to make sure you know your way around. After that, anything really. My parents are at work for the day, so we're stuck here with James and Sirius. They'll probably be holed up in their room or off gallivanting through the yard, though, so we should be okay."

"Do they… gallivant… often?" I asked, trying not to laugh at the mental image the word summoned.

"Yes. I don't even want to know what they get up to out there. It's not like there's a whole lot to do. We just have a plain old back yard that runs into a boring forest. As long as they don't burn anything down or expose wizardry to the Muggles though, I don't care."

"All right," I said, laughing as Mary and I stood up and walked into the hallway. When we reached the staircase, I levitated my trunk again and moved it alongside us.

"This is where you'll be staying," Mary said when we reached the guest room, "though I suppose that's fairly obvious."

"Indeed, it is."

"I'll leave you to unpack, then. I'll be in the shower right across the hall, so knock if you have any questions and I'll shout the answers through the door."

"Thanks, Mare."

Mary looked at me for another moment before smiling. "I'm really glad you came, Lily. There's far too much testosterone in this house with James and Sirius here, and I think you'll balance it out quite nicely."

"I'm glad I came, too. We'll see if I still feel that way after a few days of Po – James and Sirius. Who knows? They may be much less tolerable when one is living in close quarters with them, but we'll see. Either way, at least I get to see you again." I smiled. "Now go shower before this moment becomes embarrassingly sappy and we start hugging or braiding each other's hair or something."

Mary grinned and lightly punched my arm. "Good to have you back, Evans."

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**A/N: Most of you replied saying that you prefer shorter chapters, and so that's what I'm going to stick to. I prefer shorter chapters myself anyway, because once I have enough to be considered a decent chapter, I get anxious to post it. Anyhow, hope you all are having a lovely week, and thanks to everyone who has reviewed/favorited/subscribed!**

**Reviews are thunderstorms and double rainbows. (It rained earlier today.) **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I am _so _sorry. I've taken a ridiculous amount of time to update, but in my defense, things really have been crazy this time around. School's started, and I'm an IB student (if any of you know what that means, you should understand my pain) so I've already had loads of work. Plus, I have a million external commitments at the moment, and on top of that, I've been sick. I'll try to update faster next time!**

**Disclaimer: I own some viruses that are making me miserable. You want those? You can have them. I can't give you _Harry Potter, _though. It's not mine. **

* * *

_Un_packing is much easier than packing, especially when magic is involved. A quick wave of the wand and _poof_: all your clothes are hanging neatly on the rack. While the ease of the task was a relief after the morning's Great Closet Disaster of 1977, it also meant that I was done in about two minutes. Knowing Mary, I doubted that she'd even gotten to the shampoo by that point, which left me with quite a bit of spare time and not much to do. I'd packed a few books, but during the previous month of solitude, I'd read what felt like hundreds of novels and couldn't particularly summon up the enthusiasm to start a new one on my first day at Mary's.

Instead, I wandered back downstairs and took to exploring on my own. The hallway at the base of the stairs opened in two directions; on one side was the kitchen, which I'd obviously already become familiar with after my horrific arrival. Opposite it was a living room with a small couch, a television set, and a few bookshelves lined against the walls. As I walked closer, I noticed that the books where a mixture of wizarding and Muggle. For a moment I was surprised – I knew that Mary's parents were both magical – but then I remembered that she had mentioned before that her dad worked in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office at the Ministry. I supposed it could only be expected that he would be interested in Muggles more than the average wizard – which would also explain the television set. I'd learned the hard way, after being on the receiving end of a great number of flabbergasted looks, that most Hogwarts students had little knowledge of Muggle technology and were confounded by such basic words as "telephone."

On the far side of the living room was a glass door that led into the backyard; the Macdonald's lawn was immense, sloping down until it blended into a copse of trees. I could see a tire swing hanging from one of them and a hammock stretched out between two others. Though Mary had described her yard with bored indifference, I thought it looked wonderful and determined to convince her that we should do some "gallivanting" of our own.

The last door in the living room was opened to reveal a bathroom. I thought it seemed like an odd layout but I supposed it would be convenient; after all, when one is watching TV for an extended period of time, it's quite bothersome to walk more than a few metres, and bladders tend to be rather persistent. A bathroom near the television made perfect sense in terms of laziness, which I found completely acceptable.

I left the living room and crossed the hall, back to the kitchen. Looking around, I realized that I'd somehow failed to notice a door in the corner of the room when I'd first arrived. Granted, I'd initially been quite flustered by the unintentionally close proximity to Sirius Black and… _ahem_… certain areas of his anatomy. You can't expect a shock like that to fade quickly, and once it had, there had been French toast. You simply can't blame for not noticing a little doorway.

I started to open the door before I remembered that Mary and I weren't the only people in the house. Though I would be far less bothered by being caught opening random doors by Bla-Sirius and James than by Mary's parents, who knew what was on the other side? What if the door led to Matt's old room? It would be weird if I just wandered into his bedroom by myself. Besides, Mary had said the boys were staying in his room. What if there were in there and they weren't dressed? Granted, I wasn't sure why they would be undressed, alone in their bedroom, in the middle of the morning (unless they were keeping a _very_ big secret), but still. Better safe than sorry – especially when sorry could mean seeing either or both of them naked. My poor eyes would likely burst into flame at the horror, and I've never had any particular desires for blindness.

I knocked on the door. When there was no response, I hesitantly turned the handle and poked my head around it. It revealed a short hallway, thankfully free of any boys in states of partial undress. There were a few scattered windows, letting in the light of the sun, and two more closed doors.

At the first one, I yet again knocked. Hearing nothing on the other side, I opened it. It was a closet stuffed full of random objects, from cleaning products to Quidditch supplies. I recognized Matt's broomstick – which took me aback for a moment. He was almost as obsessed with the sport as Potter – James! – and I wouldn't have imagined he would ever leave his broom behind. Granted, he had a job now, and there weren't exactly a myriad of places to fly in London. I closed the door, shaking my head of any thoughts of Mary's brother, and continued down the hallway.

The second door was likewise silent in response to my knock. I was starting to think that Bla… Sirius (bugger!) and James must have run off somewhere. Unless I'd missed some hidden nook, I was fairly certain that I'd investigated the entire house. I opened this last door and had only a second to glimpse a bedroom with a wardrobe, a writing desk, a few pictures of Matt and his friends from Hogwarts, and a bunk bed on which a teenage boy lay, sprawled out, before I was blinded by a flash of light from my left.

I blinked, and when things came back into focus, something felt… _off_. I looked down and had to blink a few more times. I _couldn't_ be seeing things right, could I? It looked as though my legs had turned into two tree trunks, roots twisting into the carpeted floor. My arms were brown and rough, like bark, and… my chest was covered by a flowing beard. What the bloody hell and Merlin's ruddy fat aunt's cocker spaniel!

My head whipped up, my eyes instantly narrowing when they focused on James Potter, writhing on the bed and clutching his abdomen with laughter. I would deal with him later.

For now, though, I turned my head to the left. Sirius Black was standing there, smirking broadly. His eyes crinkled slightly, and I could tell that he, too, wanted to dissolve into giggles.

Idiot.

"Sirius You-Are-So-Dead Black, what the _hell_ did you do to me?"

"I turned you into my personal interpretation of an Ent." His smirk twisted into a full-out grin.

"An _Ent_?"

"Yeah. They're these tree-like things in this book called –"

"I know what Ents are! I doubt you've read a Muggle book that I haven't. But _why_ do I _look_ like one?"

"Well, it was this spell I invented one day – had nothing better to do in History of Magic, you see, and thought it could make an amusing prank – and when you came bursting in here, it's the first spell I thought of."

"I didn't _burst_ in! I even knocked first, but you berks didn't answer!"

"You knocked? Jeez Evans, do you knock like a squirrel or something? Well, you can't blame me. I reacted in simple self-defence."

"…Do you commonly have squirrels knocking on your door in a way that is particularly quiet?" He started to answer, but I cut him off. "No, forget that. That's beside the point. The point is, you gave me a ruddy _beard_!" Potter, who had managed to quiet himself only a moment before, burst into laughter anew. I glared at him, but his eyes were locked on my beard.

"And quite a lovely one, if I do say so myself," Black said.

"Black, if you don't change me back right now, so help me I will –"

"You'll do what, exactly? You're stuck to the floor and your wand is trapped somewhere in one of your… trunks." He snickered.

"Potter," I said. He raised an eyebrow. "Will _you_ change me back, since your immature mate is too much of a git?"

"No can do, Evans."

"Why not?"

"I don't know how." He was far too amused and not nearly apologetic enough. Well, we would see just how apologetic he would be later, once I had access to my wand.

"Oh, come on. You're the best in Transfiguration in our whole year, and I doubt that Black didn't explain how his hilarious little spell works."

"I'm flattered, Evans, but really, I have no idea. Besides, are you sure you _want_ to be changed back? The bark looks lovely with your hair, and the beard really does bring out your eyes." He smirked.

"That's impossible; it doesn't even make sense!"

"That Muggle play-bloke Shakespeare doesn't make much sense, but that doesn't stop people from liking him."

"You're talking about Shakespeare, James? Really?" Black said.

"I –" Potter started to say, but I spoke over him.

"Ugh. Will one of you _please _just change me back and stop rambling on about random rubbish?"

Black – I wasn't even going to bother trying to call him Sirius now. The git didn't deserve it. Anyhow, Black looked me over, beard to roots, once more before lazily flicking his wand and muttering a spell. I felt my feet return, firmly on top of the floor instead of inside it. I raised a hand to my face, touching my chin. It was smooth and hair-free again, thank Merlin.

"_Thank _you," I said, twisting on the spot and stepping out of the door. Potter called my name, and I was very, _very_ tempted to simply walk away. My manners, stupid things, forced me to turn around. I raised an eyebrow, not deigning to respond with a vocal answer.

"What did you come in here for, in the first place?"

"Nothing."

"C'mon. Don't be so mad; no harm done!"

"I had a beard! A beard, Potter!"

"No _permanent _harm done. Besides, Sirius apologized."

"No he didn't!"

"No I didn't!" Black said at the same time.

"Well…" Ja-Pott-James said, "he did say that he didn't _mean_ to, exactly, and that's kind of the same thing." I scoffed. He grinned at my affronted expression.

"It wasn't premeditated," Black said, crossing his arms.

James looked between his friend and I and, when I gave no symbol of forgiveness, he continued. "Okay then, _I_ apologize for laughing, even though it _was_ hilarious."

"Your obvious sincerity means so much to me."

"I'm glad. Now, would you just tell us what you came in here for?"

"I really didn't come in for anything. I finished unpacking and Mary was still in the shower, so I was exploring."

"By opening random doors? Where are your manners today, Evans? First you pop into people's kitchens unexpected, and then you go wandering about their house." Potter said, tutting and shaking his head.

"Hoping to walk in on us, were you?" Black added.

I rolled my eyes. "You wish. And I already told you, I wasn't just barging into random rooms! I _did_ knock."

"Sure you did, Evans."

"Well, if you lot are done terrorizing me by turning me into bizarre fantastical creatures, I'll be on my way."

"You do that," Black said.

"Enjoy your explorations," Potter added. I narrowed my eyes at the both of them before tossing my hair over my shoulder and pacing out of the room.

Prats.

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**A/N: I meant for this chapter to be longer, but it's late and I have a 6 am class tomorrow, so no can do.**

**What did you think? Whereas I'd had at least an idea of the chapters in mind beforehand with the first 4, on this one I just sat down to write and this is what came out. I really have no idea what I think of it yet. **

**Reviews are lemon tea and ice cream and a _Friends_ marathon (some of the few things that make sick days less miserable). **

**Lotsa love!**

**~Star**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: This is a pathetically short chapter, but I wanted to get it updated before November. I'm doing NaNoWriMo this year, so I don't expect to have much time for writing fanfiction until December. Sorry! I promise a fantastic update before Christmas, though :) **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I do, however, own a copy of Taylor Swift's new CD that I have been listening to on repeat for approximately 4 hours. I recommend it. **

* * *

Some time later, I heard the sound of a door closing over the babble of the ridiculous sitcom I was watching. Out the window, I saw the nefarious Black walking down the drive with Potter/James, whose name was giving me troubles. I had yet to decide whether his mocking in response to Black's little stunt merited a name demotion or not. Black, on the other hand, was as demoted as demotions could go. In fact, I decided, he didn't even deserve a last name. I made up my mind to only refer to him as "it" from then on.

Anyhow, _it _and _its_ friend were walking down the drive, which meant that they were no longer in the house.

Marvelous.

Mary was _still _showering, and I was beginning to worry that I would have a prune rather than a best friend by the time she was done. Conveniently, however, that left me free to sneak into the boys' room and exact my revenge. Sirius Black would rue the day he gave _me _a beard, mark my words.

I left the TV on and crept to the door, sticking my head out and surveying the hallway.

It was empty.

A malicious grin stretched across my face. I darted into the kitchen and made my way around the room, pressing myself against the wall in imitation of a bad suspense movie. Halfway there, however, my foot caught on the legs of a chair, and I stumbled, sending the chair clattering to the linoleum floor. "Shhh!" I hissed at it.

I righted the chair and abandoned my wall to cross to the door following a more unobstructed path. Sneaking isn't intended for clumsy people, anyway. Bloody chair.

I twisted the knob and pulled the door open, questioning as I did so why I was still bothering to be quiet. Sneaking was fun while it lasted but really, who was there to hear me?

Once in the hallway, I took quick strides to Bla - _its_ room. They'd left their door open.

Amateurs.

I crossed the room to the bunk bed. It was easy to determine which one belonged to _it_. The lower bed was covered with sheets full of Quaffles and Quidditch hoops, meaning it must be James's. Plus, the upper bunk was in a state of chaotic disarray that none but _it_ could accomplish.

I climbed up on James's bed, hanging on to the bars of the top bunk to maintain my balance, and moved aside the pile of blankets. I tried to forget that the gross slimeball slept there and quickly set about my task. I made short work of folding the top sheet so that it ended halfway down the bed. Now, when _it _went to lie down, his feet would be trapped. Ha! He would look like such an idiot! I could just imagine his face. That would show him. _Err, it, _I reminded myself._ Oh, never mind. He turned me into a tree with a beard; I short-sheeted his bed. I suppose we're even, and I have to call him a he again._

I threw his blankets back over his bed, carefully arranging them into a messy pile to hide my trap. Well, that would teach him not to mess with _me_, the little blighter.

As I left their room, I felt like laughing evilly, solely for effect, which was quite a new sensation for me. I'd never done this pranking thing before; I always thought it was kind of idiotic. I only knew how to short-sheet someone because Petunia used to do it to me when we were little. She thought it was hysterical to offer to read me a book before bed and then watch my expression of consternation why my feet got stuck in my sheets. Granted, I caught on pretty fast and learned to check my bedding before I got in, but still.

Back in the kitchen, there was still no sign of life.

Mission accomplished.

…or not. Mary reached the bottom of the stairs precisely as I exited the kitchen, her hair sleek and make-up immaculate.

"Lily!"

"Er…"

"I was just coming to look for you. Sorry I took so long. I'm a hot water addict."

"It's okay, Mare. They say admitting you've got a problem is the first step to recovery."

"Oh hardy-har-har." She stuck her tongue out at me. "What were you up to anyway?"

"Nothing much; just getting acquainted with the house." Mary's eyes narrowed, and for an infinitesimal second, I was afraid she suspected me.

"Oh. Okay. I guess that makes my previously offered tour unnecessary."

"Which opens up our schedule for girlish bonding and copious consumption of junk food. Perfect." I grinned.

"Very true. I have a stash of chocolate hidden under my bed for just such an occasion."

"See, Mary darling, this is why you are my best mate."

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**A/N: So, I didn't really like that chapter. It's way short, obviously, and Lily's kind of ridiculous. I figure we're all allowed to be silly every now and then, though, so I need to cut her some slack. **

**No promises, but if I get a lot of reviews and feel particularly inspired, I might be persuaded to take time out of my NaNo-ing schedule to update. Yeah? :)**

**Thanks for reading!**

**3 / Star**


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